First Date
by Shamelsshussy
Summary: First date for Bette and Tina. This follows my First Kiss fic, but also works as a standalone story.


Copyright: 2009

Feedback: please do!

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but we all knew that, right?

Distribution: If you think there are other places it might fit in, let me know.

Summary: Bette and Tina's first date. This is chapter 1, I think it'll be about 3-5 chapters in the end.

Notes: It's been a while since I posted any fic, but I'm glad to be back. This is sort of a sequel to the First Kiss story I posted last year.

* * *

"Since I'm not certain whether you want to take another chance, I'm returning your earring by trustworthy courier. I would be remiss, however, if I didn't mention how absolutely lovely it was to see you yesterday. "

The note was signed with a flourish. – Bette.

Tina laid the small card flat on her desk and leaned back in her chair. She gazed at the exquisite white and pink orchid in front of her. Her earring had been returned, tied securely with raffia to the stem, delivered with stammering, anxious care by Bette's intern James.

For the fortieth time that Monday morning, Tina turned the card over. It had been written on the back of a piece of Bette's gallery stationary, and on the reverse were listed the gallery's address, hours of operation, email and phone. Bette had inked in her cell number below, with a note. "You know you can stop by absolutely anytime."

The black ink of Bette's penstrokes seemed to glow and shift as Tina stared. She closed her eyes and pressed her head back against the chair's headrest. She remembered Bette's hand tangling in her hair, pressing their mouths to each other in a desperate, ragged kiss. Tina felt herself flush, grow aroused.

"Tina!" The intercom on her desk squawked to life, snatching Tina out of her reverie. She started, as embarrassed as if she had been caught.

"Caught at what?" She wondered to herself.

"Call on line one." Her assistant went on, over the intercom.

Tina hesitated. "Who is it?" She held her breath, hardly daring to hope.

"It's Eric."

She picked up Bette's card and slid it into the top drawer of her desk, laying it gently on a stack of unused post-it pads. She the drawer slowly shut, careful not to catch or crush the card.

"Put him through."

Tina watched the indicator light for the extension blink six times before picking up the receiver.

"Hi Eric."

"Babe!" Even in a one word greeting, Tina could hear his customary cocky grin. "Feeling better I hope?"

"What? Oh." Tina remembered just in time that her excuse for missing courtside seats at the Lakers game last night had been a throbbing headache. She had held in a slightly hysterical giggle on the phone with Eric yesterday afternoon; something had been throbbing, but not quite her head. In truth, she had spent the night squirming alone in bed, at first avoiding and then abandoning herself in replays of her encounter with Bette.

"Yeah. Fine. Thanks. How was the game? You probably had more fun with David anyway…"

"Game sucked. Our defense was shit last night."

Tina inched the top desk drawer open just a fraction, just enough to see a sliver of the note, the bottom half of Bette's sure, sexy signature.

"You're still in for tonight right?" Eric hurried on to the next topic he felt like discussing. "A cute blonde always makes dinner with the boss go down a little smoother."

Tina knew Eric was throwing a wink out with this statement, even alone in his office.

In the mental tumult of the past 24 hours, Tina had almost forgotten their plan. But there it was, on her Outlook Calendar. She read from her notes.

"Of course. 7 o'clock"

"Excellent. Meet you there?"

"Yeah," Tina answered vaguely, her mind elsewhere. She had slid the drawer open further, and was now running her finger over the swooping loops of Bette's "B".

"Then back to my place after…"Eric continued.

Tina took the card out of the drawer, and traced over Bette's name one last, longing time. She sat up straighter, suddenly sure of herself.

"Sure Eric, tonight is fine. But later this week, we need a night for you and me. To talk."

"Whatever you want babe, whatever you want." Eric spoke quickly, clearly distracted. "I got another call. See you at seven."

Tina hung up the phone, then immediately picked up her cell and dialed before she lost her nerve.

* * *

Bette was standing in the empty living room of her new house, admiring the late morning sunlight streaming through the space, mentally running through a catalog of her favorite prints, wondering what to hang first and where.

Her phone rang, the sound bouncing off of bare walls. Bette answered quickly, assuming it was her lawyer calling to sort out some loose end after the closing earlier that morning.

"Hello"

"Hi, Bette. It's…"

"Tina." Bette smiled. She had been expecting a call, but not this soon. She strode toward the sliding glass door that led out onto the patio and passed through to the back yard. "I'm glad you called."

Bette perched gingerly on one of the weathered deck chairs that had been left by the previous owner, cautious not to catch the delicate fabric of her suit.

"I wanted to thank you for sending my earring back. And the beautiful orchid. You really didn't…"

"I know I didn't. I wanted to."

Even over the phone, the low, warm rumble of Bette's voice in her ear made Tina blush.

For a minute, neither woman said anything. Bette looked out over the empty pool and imagined diving in, cool water sliding over her stomach and thighs. She remembered the heady feeling of Tina's warm belly pressed to her own, and imagined it all underwater, the hot, rushing chill, silky skin pressed hard against silky skin.

"Um…" Tina knew exactly what she wanted to say, but found herself tongue-tied.

"Tina…"

Her name on Bette's lips, Bette's mouth on her skin. Tina's heart pounded.

"…I'd really like to see you again."

Alone in her new backyard, Bette held her breath. When Tina didn't respond, she rushed to fill the silence.

"I know, you and Eric…But I had to ask."

"No!"

"I'm sorry, I just thought yesterday, we…wait, what?"

Tina took a deep breath tried to make sense. "No. Me and Eric aren't…Well, we were. By default. But I'm not ok with that. I'm telling him tonight I don't think we should be exclusive…anymore."

"Really?" Bette realized too late she sounded absolutely gleeful at the news.

Tina laughed. The tension had gone out of her body, replaced by a rush of endorphins. "So where are you taking me?"

"How about a Saturday drive up the coast? There's a tiny, incredible museum out past Malibu. I think you'll like it. And I know a great place for dinner on the way back, right on the beach."

"That sounds completely amazing."

'Yeah?"

"Absolutely yeah."

The playful edge to Tina's voice made Bette feel giddy, energized. The conversation was promising to devolve into high school level flirtation, when Tina's assistant interrupted over the intercom.

"Sorry. Bette, I have to take this."

"Of course. I'll call you later in the week to work out the details."

"This is my cell. Call any time you like."

"Bye Tina."

The sound of her name in Bette's mouth sent a delicious shiver up Tina's spine, reminding her of Bette's teeth nipping gently at her neck, just behind the jugular vein.

"Bye..." It was more of a sigh than a word.

Bette reluctantly pressed the call end button, and immediately saved Tina's number to her phone. She took her jacket off, revealing a sleeveless silk button down, and scooted all the way back onto the deck chair, deciding to forget worrying about her suit. It was last year's D&G anyway. She stretched her toned arms above her and lay back, enjoying the warm sun, her new house, and the prospect of spending Saturday evening with Tina Kennard.

* * *

At dinner on Thursday night, Eric sulked and pushed his enchiladas around on his plate, not eating much, but drinking plenty.

"I just don't get this non-exclusive shit Tina. Seriously. Seriously. I thought we were having a good time."

Tina sighed and put down her fork, abandoning her taco salad.

"Its not about a good time Eric…It's about…"

Eric decided he was suddenly hungry and stabbed angrily at a piece of carne asada.

"It's about some fucking dude you want to fuck."

Tina kept her mouth shut, her face impassive, but she felt her throat tighten.

In her bag, Tina's phone rang on vibrate, but she didn't hear it over the noise of the restaurant and Eric's continued rant.

"Was it your promotion? Does the head of development get to slut around with all those greasy boy writers or something? Is that it?"

"Keep your voice down!" Tina hissed at him across the table.

"Fuck you." Eric tossed back the dregs of his third Patron on the rocks, crunching savagely on a piece of ice.

Tina pushed her chair back from the table.

"You know what? Since you seem to hate this arrangement so much, we can just go from non-exclusive to non-existent right now."

Eric was motioning to the waiter for another drink. The waiter was assiduously avoiding his gaze.

"Fuck you too!" he yelled in the waiter's direction. Turning back to Tina, he realized what she was saying and his angry expression turned to genuine surprise.

"Seriously?"

Tina rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag. "Seriously Eric, seriously."

* * *

"…can't get to the phone right now. Leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as possible."

Without leaving a message Bette pushed the call end button and snarled at the handset.

Coming from the kitchen with two cold beers, Alice watched Bette glower for a moment, then ventured a guess. "Some up and coming artist just cross Bette Porter for the last time?"

Alice handed Bette a beer and took a pull on her own, then set it down on one of the many unopened packing boxes strewn around the room. She settled herself on the couch, shoving aside the remains of the plastic wrap the movers had packed it in.

Bette tucked her phone in her pocket and cross the room to join Alice on the couch, the only piece of usable furniture in the room.

"No…it's not work. I was trying to call Tina. I tried twice."

Alice took the opportunity to reach down for one of the Chinese food containers at their feet, lowering her head and hiding the scowl on her face.

"You haven't even gone out yet and already she's pissing you off? I don't know Bette, this straight girl thing might be…"

"I'm not mad," Bette corrected. "I'm…impatient." Bette was surprised at the word she chose.

Alice looked up to find a dreamy look misting over Bette's eyes. She took a quick mouthful of chow fun to avoid having to respond right away.

After thoughtful chewing, swallowing, and another swig of beer, Alice had to admit it. "You really like her, huh?"

Bette took her phone out of her pocket and flipped it open. But she hadn't missed a call in the last minute and a half. She looked up, sheepishly shutting the phone again. "She's… I never…"

"Okay. Okay." Alice broke in. "She's probably just at a dinner meeting or something." She speared a shrimp with her chopstick. "You're Bette Porter. You're…" Alice gestured with the chopstick in Bette's direction, using the shrimp to indicate everything about her, from her perfectly manicured toenails, to her perfectly sculpted biceps. "She'll call you back."

Bette glanced down at her phone, doubtful.

"Oh my god Porter. Do you ever look in a fucking mirror? Believe me, she'll definitely call you back."

Bette relaxed and smiled. "You're a good friend Alice."

Alice picked up her beer again and slouched down against the back of the couch. This time, her scowl had a little smile underneath it. "Ugh. I know."


End file.
